Freedom of Fate ~ Castielxreader

4 - When We're Together

Castiel reached for your mug, brushing your knuckles as he took it from your hand. 'I think Dean keeps his keys on him when he sleeps. I'll get them,' he turned to leave, but you pulled him back by the end of his coat.

'Actually I had a better idea,' you wiggled your eyebrows at him, biting your bottom lip and smiling cheekily at him. You led him through the bunker, confusion plastered across his features. When you opened the door to the garage he let out a small 'oh' with realisation. You inched towards a certain car, nervous, as if you had a schoolgirl crush on it. You ran your hand across the slightly dusty sage hood of a 1956 Ford Thunderbird, your breath hitched with excitement. Cas watched you from a distance, glancing away occasionally, feeling like he'd encroached on you in the midst of a private encounter. Your finger ran along its long delicate body work, coming to rest on its silver door handle. You slipped gently into the car, nestling into the two tone interior, closing your eyes, relaxing as if you fit together like a puzzle. Cas cleared his throat, feeling slightly left out, and you woke up from your trance. You leaned over the passengers seat and pushed open the door, inviting Cas to join you.

'It still works?' Cas shifted on the squeaky leather, investigating the assortment of buttons and gauges.

'Like a treat. Dean and I worked on her, but I haven't had the time to take her out properly. Until now,' you winked at him, grabbed the keys off the dashboard and turned the engine on. It hummed to life, settling into a low growl then into a hungry roar as you left the bunker in your rear-view.

The roof down, the Thunderbird gliding through the early dawn landscape, Castiel's hair whipped in the wind as did yours, his cheeks swelling with a slight smile every time you pressed down on the acceleration. With one hand on the wheel, your eyes never leaving the landscape unfurling before you, you grabbed your phone from your pocket. You passed it to him, told him the passcode and directed him to your road-trip playlist. He clicked obediently and as the chords of the first song began to unfurl from its speakers, he placed it on the dash. When the chorus swelled , you bobbed your head enthusiastically. Cas, watching your lips sync with the lyrics, copied your actions, trying to enjoy the music the same way you did.

'When's the Sun coming up?' you asked tapping the steering wheel in tune. Light was gradually creeping across the sky, but not enough for the headlights to be obsolete.

'In around 42 minutes,' he replied, looking eastward.

'I know the perfect spot. But I wanna grab some food first,' you smiled at him, steering into town. You picked up some waffles at a drive-thru, you offered to buy some for Cas too, but he insisted on paying. So after picking up your double breakfast order with two black coffees, you returned to the countryside. Your destination was a small hill some ways from the town, not very high but provides an unobscured view of its surroundings. You drove down a narrow dirt path connected to the highway. It sloped gradually up, minimally increasing in elevation, before dissolving into grass. You cut the engine and stepped out with your breakfast in hand, Cas copied you. You both leant against the front of the car, and waited for the sunrise in tranquil silence.

It emerged from beyond the fields and pastures, it's golden light slowly spread up your body and over your face until it fully broke away from the horizon, at which point you started digging into your waffles. Cas poked and dissected his, then turned to you with a pout.

'What?' you eyed him over the lip of your coffee cup.

'I don't eat,' he said, placing his container of waffles on the car hood.

'Yeah... I know,' you said, squinting your eyes, wondering how you had forgotten, 'so why did you want waffles?'

'I'm not sure. I was just following your lead,' he noticed you had finished your portion, so offered you his. You accepted it graciously. When you had finished, you licked the syrup off your fingers and wiped them dry on your sweatpants. His eyes intently watched your tongue lap up the sweet slick off your fingers, then cleared his throat and fixed his sitting position.